Obsessions
by Pacquiao
Summary: Barely surviving the after-war time, Harry buries himself in his work. Up until the moment, when, yet again, he finds himself having to save Draco. But as Draco, near death when he is found, and assigned to Harry's home for witness protection, begins building back his forces, it isn't only him that needs saving... Draco&Harry canon.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note : **After a long absence in which I had time to delect myself of many new stories and read truly talented authors, here's my attemps at trying to write again. This takes place just after the end of the war, when Voldermort has been killed.

**Disclaimer : **I do not own the world of Harry Potter nor pretend to (though it would be cool ^^)

Chapter 1

Finally finding a place to cool off and lie down, harry let out a sigh of relief. For the past few days, he had had to stay in Hogwarts as the last Death Eaters were being rounded up and the victims were counted. He still hadn't had the time to talk to Ginny, expect the few times when everyone had been here and they had exchanged longing glances, knowing full well that it would be long before they were alone again.

After the euphoria had calmed down, and the cadavre of Tom Jedusor had been buried far, far away - Kingsley had personnally Aparated to Groenland to make sure the body would not be found - a feeling of emptiness had filled the crowds. For the fighters that had been there during the battle, there was no question sitting around and moping. They knew it would drive them mad if they had nothing to do but think all day. Of course, Kingsley was being made temporary Minister, and the whole government had to be rearranged.

But for the ones who had lost a member of their family, a friend, or a love, as most had, these questions were of little matter. Yes, the world would go on, yes, life would continue, but the so many deaths that had affected everyone were too important, too much, and it became almost normal to see someone erupt into tears before rushing out of the Great Hall at breakfast, lunch, dinner.

No one had wanted to go home.

Where was home anyway ? Wasn't it with the people they had fought with, and for ? Wasn't it clutching to the place they had last saw their loved one ?

* * *

Harry adjusted his black cape, looked at himself quickly in the mirror and left the room, shaking his head. As he walked outside, admiring the great, hard sun oblivious to man's pain, and the reflect of it in the lake, he made his way to the crowd that was steadily growing a little way down the grass.

They had decided all the ones who had died defending Hogwarts should be buried, in the same fashion, next to Dumbledore's grave. And today, after having had to go through Fred's, and little Creevey's, and the countless others, he now had to affront yet another, and this one he did not know if he could bear : Tonks and Lupin's.

It had also been decided that they should be buried in the same spot, their bodies forever unchanged by a spell, hands entwined, faces facing a sky they would never see.

- " Harry... Will you be okay ? " Underlying the subtil question : can you stand this till the end ?

- " I..." He was going to answer 'I think so', but this was Hermione, he couldn't lie to her, and he was so used to standing strong and facing it to help all of the others stay put together and not break that he was fed up with having to lie. " I don't know.", he answered. "... I don't think so."

He felt a gentle squeeze that felt quite wet. He looked up, surprised. The tears were flowing freely on Hermione's face, and she had obviously used her hand to wipe some of. It didn't work. Ron suddenly came up, and Hermione took his hand, too.

But even them three, united as ever, it wasn't enough.

They sat down at the chairs designe especially. They had been there for seven whole days, unflinching as funeral after funeral was being held. If they waited too long, it was unbearable. Tonks and Lupin's were the last ones, and after that...home ? They liked to think it would make things better.

"Everyone...Good day."

The irony...

"As you are well aware, we are holding this last funeral of the fifty who have deceased bravely fighting for their freedom."

Arthur was speaking. After the battle, counting the victims, he had, bravely, taken over the logistics of the many funerals to be held. He wass a natural speaker, sincere.

"What to say about Tonks and Remus... They were two people of exception. Remus...he was here from the beginning. He was...", Arthur choked on his words. His nose went red, a sign that barely held tears were threatening to surface. "...brave. Discreet. One thing I am glad of, though, was that Tonks and him found each other. The love between them was, and is, a witness and proof that solidarity, love, friendship, and hope will always exist even in the darkest of times... Tonks, she was much too young to -" This time, one, lone, tear ran down his cheek, shining in the sun, blinding one eye. "And they had a child !" was all he could manage to get out before he stumbled down the alley, sitting down brusquely on a chair beside Molly, who took his hand firmly.

Harry was gone a long time before that. He was gone at the mention of the fifty deceased, finally putting a number on the victims of this battle, not counting the many others who had died before. He was gone running, barely breathing, barely able to hold his heart in as it exploded with each step he took.

Back at the funeral, a lone, aged figure, standing fiercely and alarmingly thin on the edge of her chair, at the very front of the audience, was holding baby who babbled happily, not knowing yet that, like Harry, he had been born without parents.

* * *

3 months later

- " All right, Harry, I need you to look into this, there might be some interesting info there", said Doug, the wizard Harry was working with.

In a matter of fortnights, Harry had passed the Auror qualifications - Metamorphosis was easily accomplished seeing how many times he had had to change his appearance, and seen Hermione do it, during his years of school and his last year of-

He preferred not to think about it.

What he was focusing on at the moment were the perks of dark magic the sensors picked up at irregular intervals, from around the country but that also stretched as far as Northern France.

Just after he had left Lupin's funeral running, and unable to tear himself away from the thought that of his father and his father's best friends, all of whom had cared for him and actually taken care of him, none had survived...His father, Sirius, Remus...

The day after, he had finally been able to have a quiet conversation with Ginny. He was never good with words. It had been decided they would part for the time being, what with him being completely incapable of opening himself up without having a panic attack that almost always ended in a fit of uncontrollable tears. Even Ginny had been powerless against this.

The war had left him more broken than he would have thought.

-" Are you listening or merely nodding your head with no idea whatsoever what I'm talking about ?" demanded Doug, on the verge of angriness.

Doug was an American whose cousin, Seamus Finnigan, had contacted him after the war. As it turned out, he was more than happy to come clean up England of dark magic rather than do...things he was doing there. Harry really had no idea what was Doug's job back in America. A vague 'keeping the bears out of the magic ponds' had sufficed.

- "Yeah, right, the files... Is there any mention of the Goyles ?"

- "You mean the father ? Nope, that one's dead. That's not in the file, but I heard some of the Auror's next door are looking into it - seems like it was the mother pulling the strings in the family, for all those years she was using some sort of potion...damn, Pola..Pole..."

- "Polyjuice ?" Well, that came as a surprise. Not that much, though...In these rotten families no one knew how far perverrsity could go...But to assume the form of the father ? Was he too cowardly to meet Voldemort on the numerous occasions, simply overshadowed by his wife, or could no women attend these meetings but the craziest of them all, Bellatrix ?

- "Yeah, that's right. Anyway, pretty interesting case. But so is ours", he snapped, getting Harry back into focus. "We've been hearing back from the ears we put in the various houses when they all fleed, you know, those stuff the Weasley twins made, and George made it so that we could record it and hide them well - he really wants to get that son of a bitch that killed his brother, he says..." He suddenly stop upon seeing the look on Harry's face, completely blank. "Sorry...", he mumbled, lost.

It wasn't easy on him. Coming into the country at the end of the war, not having lived it like the others, made him somewhat insensitive or unaware that sometimes he said things a little too...directly.

- "Well ?", asked Harry, trying to hide his discomfort.

- "What ?"

- "What have you been hearing then ?"

- "Oh, yeah, right. Five ancient Death Eaters met at one of the houses and started talking about the three hostages they had against one of our prisoners at Azkaben, a certain...Thomas Langlord. Any idea who this is ?"

Harry shook his head, lost. This guy must not have been the big Death Eater if Harry didn't know him...

- "Says in the file, if you ever bother to read it-"

- "Why should I, since you tell me everything like a friggin' dictionnary", mumbled Harry under his breath

- " - that it's a pretty big fish, but has been discreet even after Voldermort came back to power", continued blatantly Doug, ignoring Harry's remark.

- "What ? Really ? I'll get into it right away..."

- "Good. Oh and...I got Molly Weasley to send you some dinner too. You gotta stopo with that diet of yours, man."

- "Stop being nosy, Doug", said Harry, trying to decide whether he was glad that Doug and Molly were still there for him when he was ignoring everyone and everything, or annoyed that he was getting into his business again.

- "You're glad", Doug answered the unasked question with a smirk.

That night, instead of enjoying a bag of chips and half a pack of cigs, Harry got to eat delicious lasagna, alone in his empty appartement in London, overlooking the cloudy, black sky.

* * *

- "So it's definite then ? The tip is reliable ?"

- "Yeah", said Doug with a smirk, "we're going in."

- "We're going in. Yeah !", shouted Harry, punching the air.

Finally, he was going to get some action and finally end any dark magic still operating. The death of Voldemort had proved not to be enough, his anger was renewed by the funerals after that.

Langley, their superior, entered the room.

- "Doug, Harry, Alice", he barked, "The three of you are going in tonight at one of the Death Eater's houses, we'll tell you the exact destination at the last minute. You go in, you Stupefy the five members that we were tipped on and you go out. No less...No more"

- "What about the three hostages ?", asked Harry, confused.

- "They'll be taken care of by the Special Team that comes after. Less action, more comfort. If they went through a trauma, it's best that they don't see three Aurors waving their wands around like furies", he said, completely ignoring the indignant 'hey !'s he got from said Aurors. "I know this is your first time in the street, but this is no game, nor any kind of personal vengeance", he went on, adressing his last comment to Harry, who shot him a blank look. "Be precise and clean. Leave no trace. You don't want others to come personally after you."

And with that last piece of advice, the three of them all waited impatiently for night to fall.

* * *

- "Good luck.", whispered Doug gently.

- "Let's go", answered Alicia.

- "All right, enough nonsense", interrupted Langley. "The house you're going to tonight is the Malfoy's manor. Apparate now."

Before Harry had the chance to process the fact the he was going in and possibly arresting the members of the Malfoy family, he was being taken in side-along Apparition, brusquely following Alicia's lead.

The Malfoy's manor ! Fuck ! And he thought he wouldn't have to deal with them for the rest of his life. Well, if he was going to have to arrest them, that would be the end of all his good resolutions. After all he'd done for him, and he was dwelling in the sphere again ? Fuck...Some people never change...

They Apparated just outside the gates, and circled the manor quickly to check possible guards. Lights were on in the manor. The three of them quickly walked up the dark alley up to the imposing door. Seemed like the pheasants weren't there anymore.

Discreetly, they entered the house. The door closed silently behind them, and they faced the immense corridor. Muffled voices were emanating from a room not far.

In a distant part of his mind, Harry thought about how they had gone from the gates to the door without declenching any kind of alarm, or being noticed.

As Alice and Doug progressed to the room from which the noises were emanating, Harry heard a quiet clinking.

He stopped, straining his ears. Yep, that was definitely the noise of clinking. Like magnetised, he moved to the sound of the noise. A small, brown door behind a curtain. He opened the door to darkness.

Whispering of discreet 'Lumos', he moved his wand around what appeared to be a small cellar. And here, right in the middle, right in the middle between barely breathing Lucius and Narcissa, was a paler than death Draco, his eyes wide and his hands stretching against cufflinks, his wrists open in blood.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

- "Malfoy ?"

Harry couldn't believe his eyes. Coming here expecting to get out with a Draco in cuffs, but not that kind - the kind that made him go to prison and not that held him hostage in his own house. So these were the three...victims the special recovery team would find out about.

- "Potter ?", said Draco in a rushed whisper. His voice indicate his throat was very sore indeed. "What the fuck are you doing here ?!"

Nonplussed by the whole situation, Harry looked around, eyes wide as plates, trying to hold on to something reasonnable.

- "Well, are you going to answer me?" Draco pulled on his cuffs, letting out a small whimper in the process. "Or are you just going to stand there !"

- "But...But why are you cuffed ? I mean, why aren't you with the rest of them ?"

Draco's eyes narrowed.

- "The rest of them ? You mean the remaining pathetic Death Eaters only out for some pieces of what they could do ? I'm not that dumb. I learned my lesson. Now instead of talking about life choices, can't you just get us out of there ?"

Oh, yeah. He'd forgotten about the two Malfoy parents, unconscious on the floor. As he tried to decide which way was better to release Draco without getting noticed, he remembered that one little fact... He was on a mission. And to find, talk to and handle the hostages was not of his resort.

But he couldn't just leave them here...

That it was _Draco_, of all people, he was considering - again - putting his neck out for, was irrelevant. They were human beings in a bad shape and he couldn't resolve himself to let them rot here, even if the recovery team was on the way. Suppose something go wrong...Suppose...

Oh shit ! In his coming face to face with Draco Malfoy, he'd completely forgotten what exactly he was here to do. Simple orders, and he had managed not to follow them yet again. And why on earth hadn't Doug and Alice waited for him ?

- "I'll just...Wait here, I'll just assess the situation and we'll be back for you in a minute..."

- "Oh, that's fine, of course I'll wait here you idiot ! Where d'you think I'll be going anytime soon?" Ah, the not-missed-at-all sarcasm... "Hey, no, wait ! Where are you going ! There are at least five of them out there", pointed out Draco helplessly.

- "Would that be concern I hear, huh ? I'll be back."

That was against his nature...However, he had to join Doug and Alice who were probably worrying about where the heck he had gone off to. He stole a quick glance to his watch, indicating he had only been in there for a few minutes.

And then, just as he started opening the door, hand on the knob, he heard it.

A terrible scream, a cry for help; that set his insides on fire and, without hesitating, he slammed the door open and sprinted down the corridor for the source of the noise.

- "Alice l Doug ! Where are you ?!"

He didn't care that the others must have located him by now, all he cared about was this ear-splitting sound that came only in the most terrible of situations...Who was it ? It couldn't possibly be the Death Eaters, Aurors were forbidden to use Crucio and the last time he'd heard that scream, it was Hermione fighting for dear life against Bellatrix's spell...He had to get there or it would never get out of his mind, echoing again and again in the folds of his conscience...

- "Harry !" It was Alice calling for him, and the voice had something of broken. "No, stop !"

She shouted of Protego that stopped Harry right in his track, and the scene in front of his eyes had nothing of the ordinary.

They were in the big living room, the walls ornated with golden sculptures and magically lit candles on the buffets. Harry discerned two men slumped down the couch, visibly Stupefied. And in the other corner of the room, another Death Eater seemed to be stuck to the wall by pins that went through his hands and legs. Blood was freely pouring, and he was shouting insults at Alice. Alice, who sat in the middle of the room, holding Doug, who lay across her lap in what seemed a very awkward position.

- "He's not breathing...There has to be something...There has to be something..."

Alice rocked forward and backward.

- "Alice, let me in... I can help !"

She lifted her head.

- "No, there's a charm around the room...When you try to get in...That's...That's" Her voice trailed off for a second, but her Auror training jumped in. "That's what happened to Douglas. But not me...Maybe it's because I'm a werewolf. We need to get him to St Mungo's. I have three of the men down, there' another two that escaped. I think one is injured, though, he was whimpering when he left. The other... Harry, it's Langlord. You have to catch him."

Despite the urgency of the situation, Harry couldn't help but admire handiwork of his fellow colleague...Putting down three men with a partner injured. He hoped Doug would regain consciousness, though, and fast. Aside from the mission necessitating three trained Aurors, there was no question of letting him die for this.

- "Alright. I'm going after them. You get out of there, get Doug taken care of. There are three hostages in the room behind the curtain with the bloody centaurs on. And Alice - they're the Malfoy family. Tell that to the recovery team."

And with that, Harry spun his heels and started running along the corridor, straining his ears for some kind of sound that would give him the position of this Thomas Langlord... The house smelled kind of bad... It was like the burnt turkey Petunia had done on one Christmas, earning the spoilt shouts of Dursley. The burnt turkey... The house was on fire !

The two remaining Death Eaters had to be really desperate to set the whole manor on fire to escape, what with having three mates down in the living room. Spelling his voice so ass to be as loud as possible, he shouted :

- "Alice, are you still there ? If so, the house is on fire !"

Not very useful, but had to keep up...

Quickly analysing the situation, Harry did a double take. There was no pint in searching for Langlord, by now he had had time to disappear. He also had to salvage the three Death Eaters currently in the living room - they would try to get as much information as they could. Damn his heroe's complex for the hostages... The hostages ! The recovery team wouldn't have time to get there. And he couldn't let...them, die.

'Okay, first I Apparate the Death Eaters at the Ministry', Harry mumbled to himself. In case of emergency, he could directly Apparate in a narrow spot in Langley's office, set up for that intention. Then he'd come back instantly and get the Malfoys out. It would be tight...Suppose the fire had taken ?

No, this was a big manor, he'd have plenty of time. Hopefully.

He ran back to the living room from which his partners had disappeared. Good, one less thing to worry about... He Stupefied the stuck Death Eater and released him from his pins, and grabbed the other two. Rapidly, he spinned on spot, hopping that for God's sake he would Apparate at the right spot and not directly into the Ministry's dungeon, a formality for anyone dumb enough to Apparate in the Ministry.

Fortunately, he landed safely, and didn't miss the look of utter shock he got form Langley, standing up to the fire and obviously in deep argument with someone.

- "What the -"

- "Yeah, sorry, I know. I have to go back, there are-"

- "No no no, wait a second. You're gonna have to-"

The rest of the sentence couldn't be heard as Harry spun again and, in whirl, landed - badly - back in the living room. The charm had lifted with Doug's entrance, he supposed. But as he Apparated, he saw something was wrong. The fire was much bigger, much stronger. Smoke invaded his nostrils and he coughed violently. He couldn't even see anything. He groped blindly around him, reaching for a wall. An idea came to his mind and he took off his glasses, applying the same charm Hermione had for his Quidditch practice before putting them back on. It seemed the charm worked as well with smoke, and Harry had a clear view of his surroundings.

He was at the same spot he had Apparated from, and just up the corridor he would get to the Malfoys. In time, please, in time... Because the smoke coming from there was denser and thicker. Ignoring any warning his brain made him, he ran back to the curtain and managed to open the door violently. The fire was nearing...

And this would be the second time he would save Draco from fire...The dumbass, really...

- "Oh, you're just right back like you said, huh !", spluttered Draco, visibly out of breath and barely conscious again.

- "You should thank me, idiot", answered Harry curtly, approaching with big steps Draco and charming his cuffs off.

They weren't very strong, and after trying a spell or two he managed to open them and free Draco. But as he looked in Draco's eyes, preparing to free his parents too, all he could see was a look of pure terror, and his grey eyes normally so icy reflected the enormous fire that was invading the minuscule cellar...

And then all Harry could make out was Draco, crouching over his mother as he tried to free her without a wand, and the fire engulfing them, choking them and Harry realising it wasn't a normal fire, all the water going out of his wand couldn't stop it, and doing the only thing he could do with his clothe set on fire and Draco shouting at him with words he couldn't understand... With his free hand, his sleeve burning rapidly and reaching the skin, he grabbed Draco roughly and spun around, this time praying for even the Ministry's dungeon, anything that would get them out of this hellhole...

* * *

Harry was back in the platform. Or better yet, he could feel comfy cotton under his body. Hmmm, this felt comfortable enough, yes. He laid there for what seemed like hours, afraid to open his eyes. No structured thought could form in his mind. That is, until he felt the rays of sunshine on his cheeks, slightly hot, and immediately opened his eyes.

Coming this close to death by fire, and he did not want any kind of sunshine on his cheek. He sat up abruptly, the memory of the day before flooding his mind. Doug, eyes closed and limbs sprawled accross the floor, Alice, covered in cuts, and _Draco_...

Had he managed to survive ? Harry chanced a look around and concluded he was in a St Mungo's private room, in recovery. The burnt marks had been erased away and he was left with only babyish pink looking skin.

And he hadn't been able to bring back Narcissa and Lucius.

Not that they particularly deserved it. But they would be on his mind for the rest of his life.

But Draco, had he at least survived ? He couldn't bear it if the one person he'd managed to get out of the manor, and gone back to save, had died. Even he didn't deserve to die... And after he had last rescued him, he hoped he would have made something of the life he'd been given a second chance to. At least, that was what Harry though...Right ?

His interrogations were not left unanswered as a nurse arrived shortly thereafter, and, assessing, his wake, smiled gently before leaeving and returning with Alice and Langley.

It was Alice who got Harry into a big hug and started talking, interrupting obliviously a seemingly perfectly prepared speech Harry knew Langley was about to deliver when he saw his face.

- "Finally ! We thought you'd sleep through the day. Gave us quite a fright, you know ? What with Doug being in the hospital too... Whyever did you go back ? We had the three Death Eaters", she said accusingly. "Oh, right, your friggin' heroe's complex. But _really_ ? The Malfoys ? You have a big heart, I can tell you that !"

- "Yeah, hum, so how is Doug doing ? And is Draco- hum, Malfoy, alive ? I mean, did he survive ?"

Langley shifted impatiently, looking piercingly at Harry.

- "Doug is doing fine. They managed to get his heart back going. Seemed it was just a heart-stopping spell - not very refined, but they are Death Eaters - bunch of idiots, the lot of 'em... He's awake so I expect you to go explain why you drifted off in the house instead of following us." Here Langley nodded curtly, glaring at Harry. It was just what he wanted to know. "And yeah, that Malfoy guy survived. Barely, though. Skinny and barely alive as he was, I'm surprised he made it through the night. Was ripping and punching everything he saw, too, when you landed right on Kingsley's lap. Wanted to go back for his parents..."

Alice trailed off. As bitter as her memories were concerning the Malfoys, she couldn't help but feel pity at their fate, and Harry saw that. But...

- "I landed on Kingsley's lap ?", was all he managed to get out, shocked.

- "Oh yeah, funny story that one", finally interrupted Langley, "but for another time. Now kindly tell me what possible reason you had for letting Douglas and Alice go on alone."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, the arguments all ready in his mind, the hostages, the state they were in, the only few minutes he had lost but the mistake he nonetheless had made, and the excuses on his lips. He sat down on his bed and managed to stand up too, to face Langley.

The door crashed open with a bam, and a worn out Draco came in, completely dischevelled.

By that point, Harry, nonplussed, would have expected anything. Tears, thanks, a cold acknowledgement. But not at all what followed.

Mustering all of his force, Draco punched him straight in the face.

* * *

**Author's note : **Thank you Albions-Queen very much for the nice review, it's nice to see my work has been read ! And promise : not too much angst - it's not what I planned anyway...

But for the next chapter, some angst and some tears, but also some...frustration and slow coming to their senses...


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The only thing Harry could feel was utter shock. And confusement. And something that treacherously felt like anger at Draco obviously not being very thankful. The punch in itself hadn't been very painful, Draco was still very weak and he himself had stumbled when his fist had made contact with Harry's cheek.

- "What...What the hell, Malfoy !", shouted Harry as he nonetheless held his chin

Draco looked like he was preparing to launch another attack. Harry shot a quick glance at Alice and Langley. They weren't there anymore. Well, so much for solidarity. How did they expect him to deal with this fury in his current state ? With a quick play of the wrist, he stopped Draco in mid air.

But that didn't stop Draco for one second.

- "Getting me out of there ! What, so you could act the heroe again ! Oh, there's the Boy Who Lived Twice, and twice saving Draco's neck from a fucking fire, but you didn't think about my parents, eh, that was too much for poor Potter, you wanted me to still be there for what it feels like to be an orphan !" He struggled against Harry's hold and broke free, Harry being too apalled to react. "Letting them fucking die in a fire ! Like you're some kind of god, YOU get to choose who lives and doesn't, don't you ? Well that's not how it works ! You're -"

- "Draco !" This was the first time Harry used his name, and it stunned him into silence. "That's not true ! I wanted to save them, I did, but there was no time. You barely made it out alive as it is !"

- "I don't give a fuck ! My mother...She was innocent ! She _saved _your life !"

- "I told there was nothing personal in it ! I would have saved them both if I could but there _just wasn't the time _!

- " There was the time...There was the time", accused Draco, mumbling to himself.

After having stuggled against Harry and left his grip, he made it to the corner of the room in a few back steps, unaware of what he was even doing judging by the blank look on his face. When he touched the wall he slid down it, thereby sitting against the corner and rocking slowly.

- "There was time...There was time..."

He was pitiful. He was alarmingly slim, his blond hair sticking up everywhere and the numerous burns and cuts from his body - he looked like he had been tortured, or at least fought - were not fully healed yet. They must have been serious. Not knowing what to do, but his heart breaking at the sight of such vulnerable a figure, Harry made the few tentative steps up to where Draco was sitting, and slowly crouched down. His hand doing exactly what his brain was shouting at him not to do, he reached out compulsively and touched Draco's shoulder.

Draco shuddered at the touch, and pulled away. Harry didn't move. Someone had to be there for him, and right now the only one who knew what he was going through in proximity was him. He put his hand back on Draco's shoulder. This time Draco didn't pull away, if only slightly. His neck wass bent and he refused to look at Harry, but Harry could feel he had acknowledged the touch and knew its meaning : I know how shitty it feels.

They stood there in silence for a long time, Harry not daring to break the silence and the...moment that he felt was going there. Looking back at Draco, he saw with clearly all the small details of his face. He realised he hadn't been that close to him...Ever. Feeling suddenly nervous, he stood up suddenly, earning an interrogative glance from Draco. Who immediately put back his head down, and then stood up himself. Unwilling to look back at Harry, he left the room in a hurry, leaving a perplexed Harry standing in the middle of the room.

* * *

Feeling dizzy, Harry woke up yet again from a few ten hours, or so it looked like, of sleep. Alice was sitting in one of the armchairs, writing.

- "Hey", she greeted, looking up at Harry who had made a small movement.

- "Hey. What time is it ? What day is it ?" he asked, a little out of it.

- "Thursday". So he had only slept throught the rest of yesterday on the night. Man, he must have been tired... "Had a good sleep ?", asked Alice with a smirk.

- "Fine, fine... So, what now ?"

- "I'm writing my report. You're going to have to do that too, you know. And Doug's back in office. Didn't even want the customary three sick days, says they don't do it that way where he lives."

At the mention of Doug, Alice's face lit up slightly. Harry, smiling interiorly, decided to leave it.

He made the motion to stand up.

- "Okay, so I can go now, right ? I mean, it's morning." He suddenly thought of Draco. "What about Draco- huh, Malfoy ?" Damn that stupid slip of the tongue. "What are they going to do with him ? They can't possibly arrest him, can they ? He was a hostage..."

- "Don't worry, they won't. It will take more time for him to heal, though. And they'll have to find him a safehouse, but he doesn't let anyone near him... I really don't know how we'l figure this one out. And where exactly do you plan on going ?"

Harry had a fleeting idea, which left his mind running as it was chased by his common sense with a bat.

- "Back to the Ministry."

This time he definitely stood up.

- "Oh, and you expect to go in his little hospital nightgown, don't you ?"

He realised what he was wearing, and his cheeks flushed red with embarassment. He could have been naked for all the layer the gown provided. It was so thin he could see the muscles of his arm through it. And that was...what Draco must have seen yesterday... His cheeks burned brighter at the thought of being so close to his school-time enemy in a fucking hospital nightgown. He shook his head. Really, he didn't know what was going on... Alice threw him a pair of jeans and a shirt.

- "There you go. Here", she said, throwing a little bag at him, "is your undewear. Now hurry up if you want to see Langley, at ten he's going to the manor."

Torn up between the idea of not having to face Langley and the one of going to assess the damage at the manor, Harry made a face.

- "He's that angry.", Alice answered his mute thoughts. "But he understands. Just couldn't leave little Draco- oops, Malfoy behind, could you ?"

- "If it had been anyone-" started Harry, but he was cut off.

- "Anyway, I'm coming with you, I want to see that hellhole of a manor burnt to the ground."

She looked up to see Harry, looking at her with concerned eyes.

- "I can be bitter. And I can handle it, alright ?"

- "Alright, I didn't say anything..."

And with that they left the hospital together, a distant part - and from now on completely denied - of his mind wondering in which room Draco was now, sleeping his way through the countless injuries he had. He felt a burst of anger at those remaining Death Eaters, not even smart enough to flee the country but forever wanting to retaliate. He would have Thomas Langlord's neck.

When they arrived, half an hour later, to the office, he was greeted by cheers of welcome, and an awkward walking Doug came up to embrace him and winced.

- "Hey, you allright ?", asked Harry, pulling away.

- "Yeah, s'just my ribs. Took a little blow. But, glad you're back and alive, mate !", he said with a big grin. He lost it rapidly. "Langley's in his office", he murmured conspirationnally. "And he ain't happy."

- "Oh, thanks for the support", argued Harry back, "I appreciate. But it is my fault. What do you think he'll do ?"

- "No idea. Those British have weird ways of punishing you, huh ?"

- "What is that even supposed to mean ?"

Doug shook with laughter at his own private joke - that no one, really, no one, understood, and sat back behind his desk. Harry decided to do the same for the time being, and by quarter to ten he was done writing his report - in which he took the blame for everything. Then, bracing himself, he got up and knocked on Langley's, closed, office door. That was strange... He usually didn't stay such a long time locked inside his office. A muffled 'come in' reached Harry's ears, and he pushed the door.

Langley was just turning back from the fire. He looked like he had had a long conversation, and judging by the emptiness of the jar besides him, with many people.

- "Ha, Potter. Sit."

Harry obliged.

- "So as you know...You've messed up."

Unable to talk, he nodded. Langley sure could scare the guts out of you.

- "I'm not going to suspend you". Harry let out a sigh of relief. "But," he said with a machiavellic grin, "you _will_ be assigned a new mission. One that doesn't, hopefully, get your partners in such trouble. I'm putting you on witness protection."

The information took some time to raech Harry's brain, still fighting to process it. A blank look appeared on his face.

- "Witness protection, but...You mean, I mean - I mean, which witness to do you mean ? They aren't running the streets right now, I think the only one we have is...-"

Horrible realisation came upon him.

- "That's right Potter - Mr. Malfoy."

He could have laughed upright at Langley calling Draco ' ', if he didn't just understand the implications of witness protection over Draco.

- "You mean, he joins the program ? Goes into a safehouse ? MY, house ? Oh non, this is a bad idea, Langley, he really hates me, he'd just come around and break everything, I like my house the way it is, really -"

- "Well, consider that your punishement. And I was there when he took a punch at you. Didn't want to get in the middle of it, though," he continued with a smug look, "and you deserved it. If not for the same reasons. You're the only one who can protect him, Harry, and he knows you. That's one step to trusting you."

- "Or exactly the opposite", mumbled Harry in response. "Do you know the history there ?"

- "I do, I'm not completely misinformed, idiot. You also revented him from going to Azkhaban, and that I really don't understand, but some part of him has to be grateful..."

- "You don't know him-"

- "Will you stop interrupting ? It's decided, there's no going. As soon as he's back on his feet, we send him to your house. No get out of my office."

- "Oh, thanks," said Harry, doing a little bow. "Really, best punishment ever."

- "Stop with your sarcasm and get out", he said, indulgence filtering through his severe look.

He did. He really needed some fresh air and a smoke. As he inhaled deeply his third cigarette, standing just besides the phone booth - the guest entrance of the Ministry - he assessed the situation. He tried to do so logically, but his thoughts were always invariably drawn back to that last statement.

He was fucking going to have to _live _with spoilt, angry Draco Malfoy.

He really had a death wish.

* * *

**AN : **Thanks again Albions-Queen for your very nice review, it keeps me enthusiastic !

And more Draco and harry time to come as they now will have to live together ;)


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

- "Just put your stuff here", mumbled Harry awkwardly.

After the obligatory week in observation, Draco had finally been allowed out of the hospital, and Harry had dreaded that time for the full seven days. He still didn't know how to take it. How do you react to seven years of mutual hatred ? And, as Draco had so rightly pointed out, their families were narrowly linked : their lives had many times been put in each others' hands; Harry had saved Draco twice now, and nearly killed him once, and Narcissa had saved Harry when it seemed impossible. Hell, even Draco had lied about he, Ron and Hermione back during the war when they'd be taken at the manor : it was impossible for him not to have recognised Hermione as she hadn't altered her face at all.

And yet in the midst of all this history, all this hatred and frustration, the facts remained : barely three months after the end of the war, here they were, Draco and Harry having to live under the same roof.

Draco put down his small bundle, that contained all of his life : the meagre possessions stood out pitifully on the table.

- "Yeah, that's all I have", said Draco, already tensing up as he saw Harry's gaze on the few clothe given by the hospital, a notebook, and his wand.

And this was all he had in the world.

Oh, and his Gringotts key. At least the enormous amounts of money in his vault would allow him to buy back as many stuff as he wanted. Harry shook his head. He was still the same spoilt brat. Only two days after being rescued, Draco had insisted on going to see the manor. In the psychotic state he was, they didn't dare refuse. However, they had evacuated the bodies of the two Malfoys beforehand, and so they expected Draco to only stare at the - still fuming - manor.

When Draco got there, he did spend some time in shock, glaring at the house that had seen him grow up. But then he engaged himself in the hot ruins, refusing to listen to his escort. He touched many things that seemed to have personal meaning, but he only retrieved one object : his Gringotts key and his wand, that had miraculously escaped the fire, protected in a very powerful magical box. Really, how much more stupid could the remaining Death Eaters get ?

- "I'll- I'll show you your room."

Reluctantly, Draco followed Harry's lead. In the week during his recovery, Harry had put all his efforts into making the place clean. In only three months he had the place, he'd managed to put so much mess it looked like an old lady had been living there for years. Unfortunately, Harry could not bring up the excuse of being an old lady, and thus had to clean, polish, and pretty much make the place fit for human habitation. Because if he hardly stayed home, and so had no reason to have a nice, decorated place, Draco was going to spend very much time locked, so to say, inside _Harry's _home. And that meant he could pass as a chaotic fool.

Unconsciously, the time he had spent painting, scrapping, and making comfortable the guest room, or, as it would be called now, _Draco's_ room, had quite stretched into long hours.

But he just couldn't give Draco an excuse to mock him, could he ? A home was very personal, and Harry had tried to make it as neutral as possible in order not to overwhelm Draco : the loss of his parents and pretty much his entire world would have made him vulnerable.

Unfortunately, this translated into awkwardness and very little words exchanged.

He finally opened the door and let Draco come in, leaving him to his good will and retreating to the kitchen. He expected there wouldn't be too much interaction while he was there. Not that it was a problem to him...not that he thought so. It was just...yeah, that was the word : awkward.

Surprisingly, Draco entered the kitchen a bare hour after he had left him to his own devices.

- "Oh, hey." Harry couldn't think of anything to say. "Hum, it's good you're here, I can show you around in the kitchen...I...suppose. I won't be here all day so it will be up to you to make your lunch." He couldn't stop the next words escaping - no, literally : _escaping_ - his mouth. "You do know how to make food, right?"

- "I'm not that dumb. So I suppose it's a surprise to come across someone who can cook with all the crips packs there."

Harry looked to the space Draco was staring at, dumbfounded. He thought he'd thrown away everything that would betray crisps' presence in this house ? Yep, there it was. The bin, opened because that was the last thing Harry was doing before Draco came in.

- "Just be happy that you have a bed to sleep in, won't you ?"

All trace of the comfort Harry had been wanting to give Draco had disappeared, it even looked like Draco didn't remember it, which was perfectly possible, seeing the state he'd been in, or maybe he just really wanted to deny it... Instead, an atmosphere with a cast of agressivity was the only that remained, leaving Harry confused and...saddened.

With all the time they'd have to spend together, he'd hoped it wouldn't be that bad.

Draco sighed, seeming to take the better of himself and not answer. Instead, he opted for the alternative.

- "Well, you said you'd show me around ?"

- "Oh, yeah, right."

After Harry had managed to get the unhappy pan out of its drawer and show it to Draco, a Herculean task which included fighting with said saucepan under Draco's - for the first time - nearly amused eyes, then telling it to shut the hell up when it started shouting 'More wine ! More wine', the night had fallen and he and Draco shared yet again a strange meal in which they tried - unsuccessfully - to make small talk.

There was just no small talking with Draco Malfoy, Harry learned : if he wanted to know something or make fun of someone, he'd go straight to the point. If he didn't, he'd just not talk.

Apparently, Draco wasn't very interested in Harry's life, but as th enight wore on, Harry realised this must be hard for him mto and he was just to inhibited to ask the first questions. What would they talk about, anyway ? They both practically knew each other's life anyway, just from different point of views.

At eleven o'clock, Draco yawned discreetly, showing rare politeness. Harry judged it was time to go to bed, even if he knew he wouldn't sleep for a long time. Sleeping was still too hard to do.

They both went to their business and prepared for the night.

As Draco left for his room, yawing a 'Good night' that Harry must have imagined, because Draco wishing him a 'good' anything would be too good to be true, Harry made his way to his own bedroom. Lying in his bed, turning and turning, he found that instead of the lifeless faces, one after the other, that flashed before his eyes whenever he closed them, all he could see now was the distress in Draco's eyes in their last fight at the hospital, the blame apparent in them.

And even if didn't forget the many deaths the Malfoy bloodline had made, he also couldn't forget the two dead bodies they had been to salvage at the manor, which made two more that had died at the hand of Voldemort's minions... And those faces, like the immeasurable others, would continue to haunt him in his bed, at night, with nothing to do other than ponder over them...

Shouts...no...There was someone again, shouting...He couldn't get to him in time, he couldn't reach him...

Shooting awake in the middle of the night, sweating and grunting, Harry looked around frantically. Where was he ? Those muffeld shouts, they weren't only in his dreams, he could still hear them... He got up clumsily, banging his toes on the frame of the bed. What was going on ?

Apprehensive, he took his wand that laid on his nighttable.

The only logical explanation was an intruder in the house. And why ? Fucking Malfoy, of course. Now, getting up at three in the morning, assessed Harry as he checked his watch, was definitely not part of the plan.

He crawled up the corridor, and realised the shouts were coming directly from Draco's room. Wwas he already in there ? Shit ! With no further thought, Harry banged the door open, preparing to attack the son of a bitch who had dared attack D- in his house.

And in the small light, there was no one but Draco, straining against his covers that had already given up and half on the floor, his eyes shut tight.

He was having a bad dream. A very bad dream. In a flash, Harry was reminded of his own dreams, nightmares, so realistic they would make him scream in the night. Draco was as fucked up as he was...

- "Draco...", said Harry gently, approaching him and shaking his shoulder

At the sound, Draco woke up abruptly, shouting something indistinct and throwing his arm out. Arm, that, of course, made contact with Harry's chin and made him let out a strangled shout.

He didn't hold it against him, even he would have been agressive in the middle of the night, if he had found Draco pooring over him.

But this was his house, and Draco was in a bad state.

- "Hey, Draco, calm down...It's not real..."

At the sound of his name, Draco, still looking like he didn't know where he was, seemed to calm down.

He sat brusquely against the wall and looked up at Harry.

The image was heartbreaking. Too fierce to show it, and yet too messed up not to - his vulnerability leaked out of his eyes as they met Harry's. During the exchange that felt like hours, Harry suddenly realised the extent of Draco's damaged life. Born at the wrong place at the wrong moment, destined to Slytherin forever and overshadowed by a weak and cruel father sworn to the dark causes...He never stood a chance. Even with his mother, he never had.

So Harry sat down besides him and took his hand, holding it as firmly as he could and prepared to hold firmer if Draco pulled away.

He knew Draco wouldn't accept what he might perceive as pity, but saying no words was just as fine for Harry. After all, the war had not left him unscatched either.

They stayed there for the rest of the night, their hands firmly in each others' and each taking what they needed to take from the touch : understanding, comfort, fright that the bad dreams might never end...

Draco didn't pull away.

* * *

**AN : **Thanks agin for the review Albions-Queen, you're still there ! I also noticed I had followers, so that's good for the confidence too ;)

A little hurt/comfort in this chapter, not very much time to write it and the next chapter will be longer.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN : **Quite a chapter here, I had the inspiration and felt it was right for now.

Chapter 5

Harry woke up with a start at ten o'clock. He had slept, sat aginst the wall and holding Malfoy's hand, for seven hours straight.

And without a dream. For the first time in weeks, he didn't feel like moving, or doing something, or even keeping busy. He felt like just sitting there and letting his thoughts, whatever they may be, invade him. He didn't only ponder over thoughts. The feeling he was starting to have escaped his rational thinking. What was he feeling ? He himself did not know. He couldn't exactly pinpoint the thoughts and emotions that had made him reach for Draco and hold his hand, or stay next to him for the night. There was a mixture of well-being, suspicion, and the profound conviction that he wouldn't rather be anywhere else in the world.

Was it caring for someone as messed up and broken as him ? Did he see part of himself in Draco ?

Or was it something else entirely... Was it Draco ?

From that first refused handshake in their first year at Hogwarts, they had been sworn enemy by custom. The spoilt, rich kid whose parents didn't refuse him anything, Slytherin in addition, what better enemy for affection-craving, poor Gryffondor kid like Harry ? The coward against the brave, the selfish against the selfless. Only if Harry had thought himself pretty unlucky for the first years of his life, having to rub shoulders with Dudley, Petunia and Dursley, orphan and with bits of Voldemort in him, he had never really stopped to consider Draco. He hadn't been born in the right family. And who knows - maybe in Harry's place he would have turned out the same, only with icy-looking features, pale hair and a droning voice that would have made all the girls crazy.

He stole a glance at Draco. Had he ever -

- "Hmm...Where am I", came the sleepy voice of Draco, dragging him from his thoughts.

He seemed to suddenly realise where he was, because in one jump he was out of the bed, standing against the wall like a scared cat.

- "What are you doing here ?"

Harry, opening big eyes, attempted to explain :

- "Last night, huh, you were having a bad dream and it woke me so...Well, you seemed in a bad state", stammered Harry, not really ready to lay out in the open how alike he felt with Draco.

- "I can't believe it !"

Draco ran his hand on his face and through ihs hair, truly looking like a madperson.

- "I can't believe it ! You took advantadge of me ! So it's not enough to fucking save my ass, you have to go try put me back together too, huh ! Fucking asshole ! What, you want me to be grateful you fucking sat by me ? Want me to tell you all my fucking secrets, like you're my fucking diary ?! Who do you thing you-"

Out of his mind, Harry interrupted him brutally.

- "Stop ! Just stop ! Each time something happens you go full scale crazy at me, like it's my fault your life is so messed up ! I'm only trying to help phere, so stop with the fucks ! You think what, I'm just going to leave you like -"

- "Oh, you're only doing this for me, aren't you ? Like I didn't figure it out. You're as fucked up as I am ! Wonder, the Boy Who Lived, with your fucking scar like a torchlight and the ever so many people you saved - bet you don't even think about them, do you, only the ones who fucking died out there."

The blow was hard. Harry pinned Draco to the wall, mustering all of his will not to strike him here and now, his forgotten wand lying on the bed. Approaching his face to Draco's, he put all of his venom in his words.

- "Don't you talk about them. You have no right to talk about them. You were in your friggin' manor enjoying your fucking ten-courses dinners while they were out there fighting for their freedom."

Draco snarled, raging.

- "You think it was easy ! You think I liked having the Dark Lord behind me at all times, killing left and right, the blood all over me ! Having to fucking not-eat to bring my food to Lovegood and the others because they were starving and dying in the fucking cellar while my dear father was cowering and whimpering to him. _He _was there all the time. Getting into my head. Exploring. You think it was easy having someone make you feel you were going slowly mad, waking you up sweating in the middle of the night ! You have no idea. But oh, I know what _you_ went through, it was all over the news, oh, just everyone had to know what darling Potter went through, the long, cold nights, the feeling of despair, the people dying like -"

- "Shut up ! Shut up right now !"

He couldn't think of anything to say. He couldn't believe he hadn't realised this before, how much of a prisoner Draco had been, in his own mind, that was the worst of prisons...He couldn't believe Draco knew that much about him, did he really tell that to the press ? Or did his retreating from the world just prove how desperate he was ? He also coldn't believe he was standing there, against Draco, his minty breath upon his face... Could he have been that stupid ?

- "Draco..."

- "Don't say my name ! Just - don't...", whispered Draco fiercely. His voice had dropped down to a murmur, but they were so close he could hear him anyway...

Harry blinked rapidly. And their eyes met. Could it be a lone tear he saw flickering in Draco's eye, eyes that were so gery and yet so deep...Peering into them as far as he could go, he was lost in eyes that were so open that he could read them like a book. He couldn't see anything but them by now, there they were, a mixture of grey and bluish with minuscule pecks of gold, Harry hadn't ever been able to detail eyes with so much clarity... Beautiful eyes...

He was so confused...He couldn't understand that feeling he still had in his guts, that was slowly warming his whole body. He started breathing more heavily, and when he focused back on Draco's whole face he suddenly heard that Draco too had his heart beating faster. Faster...

And without even thinking about it, without weighing the consequences, the outside world or anything beyond this moment, he glanced at his lips. A fraction of a second.

Suddenly everything seemed much sharper. Against his body he could feel the slim muscles of Draco's torso through his thin shirt, the touch of his wrist against Harry's hand, pinned against the wall to prevent being hit again, in a distant part of his mind he remembered putting them here during their shouting match...They were too close, much too close...

His lips opened only fractionally, to let out the breathing that was becoming too difficult for only his nose.

And then they were just two beings devoid of any history, of personnality even, they were just two humans much too close and Harry bent forward a little, just a little, only enough to be nearer to Draco but it didn't matter, Draco closed the distance. The fire burning in his eyes hadn't been there a moment before but suddenly their lips met, and they were done, there was no going back - Harry hadn't tasted lips so sweet ever, really, in his life, he hadn't imagined the touch could feel that good in the drunken hole he had gotten into, and he was just biting his lower lip, and then Draco opened his mouth wider and his tongue slipped in, slim like the rest of his body and incredible, and everything went faster after that - it wasn't any kind of romance, it was just pure animal attraction, Harry's mind was completely clouded as he deepened the kiss, not wanting to let go, ever... His hands holding Draco's wrists slid them up against the wall and he pushed himself nearer against him, if that was humanly possible, and then Draco had freed them and was gripping Harry's hair, against the back of his neck, firm, and Harry grabbed his shirt, there was too much fabric, much too much fabric, and without realising it there was no more shirt on Draco and Harry's was ripped off, Draco was amazingly strong for his height, and he stopped.

Without a sound, he traced Draco's chin with his finger, fire in his eyes. He touched his lips that opened slightly against it, fascinated. Draco was breathing heavily and stood, like frozen, into place. Scared to look back into his eyes for any sign of pulling away, he detached his higher body from him, and slid his finger down his neck and on his torso. It was paler than the moon , but, just like it, had a strange glow. He traced the cut he had just over his right nipple. Eyebrows burrowed in confusion and anger at the one who had done it, he slid lower and lower - and Draco's hand caught him at his zip. With a jerk of the neck, Harry looked up. Draco was staring at him intensely, looking like he was trying to decide something. And then he just sighed and linked his fingers in Harry's, against his cheek. He stayed there for what seemed like an eternity but was in reality a mere few seconds, and then he pulled Harry back in and kissed him again, fleetingly. Like a permission. He earned a groan. He bent his head and kissed Harry on the cheek. On the base of his neck. Just below his ear. He stayed burrowed in his neck for a minute, Harry holding onto him for dear life.

- "Harry..."

Instead of breaking the silence, it seemed like a whisper from the wind, flowing around them. It was the first time he'd called him by his name.

The moment had lost its touch of brutality but was made more perfect by it, the silence settling in over unsaid but understood words. Draco was slowly caressing Harry's hair.

Draco froze suddenly. Like he had just realised where he was, he pulled away. He pulled away ! Harry's heart fell into tiny little pieces.

- "No -"

- "I'm sorry", mumbled Draco, "I - I can't - I have to-...go, I'm, I have to-"

He didn't even take his shirt and left running out of the room.

Harry sighed and sat against the wall, his head in his hands, as he heard the appartment door slam.

He didn't try to stop Draco from going outside, not even thinking about what might happen outside.

What the fuck had he gotten himself into ?

* * *

**AN :** So it wasn't that long, but I couldn't possibly add anything after that without waiting for a new chapter, so there it is. Review for your opinions, they'll be appreciated !

And thanks again Albions-Queen for keeping up with my updates, I'm on holiday right now so I love writing a lot, but in two days it's back to work and I'll try to update as soon as possible anyways !

I'm starting to see where this is heading but I'll leave the suspense, I don't want to give everything away ! That chapter may be a break in but nothing's yet played, many frustrations to come and not a very well thought out plan in any of Draco nor Harry's head, so they'll have to figure it out :)

Thanks for reading !


	6. Chapter 6

- Draco's POV -

Draco ran outside, slamming the door more than necessary in the process. The emotions that mixed together in his heart were all contradictory, and then his brain got in too and started dancing on his insides.

He'd just lost his parents. He'd just been taken hostage by those that had shared meals with his family for years. He was saved by Harry Potter, who'd thought it good not only to rescue his sorry ass, but also to welcome him into his home.

And now he'd just kissed Potter.

No logical construct in his mind ever led to _that _ending. Nothing he'd ever imagined doing to Potter ever finished by them ripping each other's clothe off. And it wasn't like he hadn't contributed, either. He'd been just as into the moment as Harry had been. Harry... He felt a pang of guilt at leaving him like this. But he just couldn't do it.

After the intensity of the moment, he had found that he was frozen into memories, replaying every moment that he ever messed him up in his life. He had found that opening himself up to that intimate a contact, so close a touch, made him more vulnerable than he dared admit. He didn't need anyone telling him what was wrong in his life. Each time he thought about it, it invoked a number of images and flashes that had become customary to him. His childhood, alone in the manor with for only company his father that was never proud, his mother that couldn't show her love, and weirdos that came around for unclear business. School in which he had found the admiration of his fellow Slytherins, the fright of the others and a sworn enemy that seemed to have been made just for him. And then the Dark Lord's return, and the only euphoria Draco saw was that of Bellatrix - his parents certainly were not happy about the turn of events. And the chilly, freezing air that come over him as _he _approached him, talking to him, looking at him... He shuddered, feeling cold at the mere memory. After that, all had gone in a blur - trying to kill Dumbledore that had never done anything to him, that, in the end, might just be the only one who could help against the Dark Lord, and receiving the Sectusempra from Potter, he had to admit that hurt, not only physically but emotionally too - was he so detestable and rotten that noble Potter would use a curse against him ? And the war in which he had no place but follow his bloodline, terrorized at every turn of the corridor, unable to sleep at night, the idea of picking the right side not even allowed to enter his mind for fear that the _Dark Lord _would _know_... He had ruined mmuch more lives than those he had killed.

At least they were, in their sleep of death, peaceful.

While Draco couldn't stop thinking, couldn't stop the images printing themselves in his brain forever, the torture, and the blood, and the blank, lifeless, nameless faces...

And all that brought him to - what ? Between a wall and Harry Potter, their lips meeting and dancing like they were born to do that...

It was all too much. He walked a couple blocks until he found a tobacconist's. He found a park nearby, a distant part of his mind wondering how Harry could have let him out of the appartment without going to look for him. To add to the situation, he was under federal witness protection, there was no getting out of it and already on the first night _that _had happened... He couldn't figure out what had pushed him to act like this. Did that mean he was...gay ? He pushed the thought away - he already had enough to worry about the one he kissed being _Harry _fucking _Potter_ to worry about the fact that he was a man, too.

As he lit his cigarette, inhaling a welcome puff of smoke and feeling it relaxing his body, he looked around. They had Apparated to Potter's place, so he hadn't had the occasion to check out where it was that he actually lived. Being wizard, he could live almost anywhere he wanted - on a friggin' deserted island if he wanted it, he just had to Apparate and be straight to work. But he had chosen to remain in London, unless the appartment was assigned to him and it wasn't really his. Draco doubted it, though. He couldn't picture Harry somewhere in the sun, three months after the end of the war. He seemed more like the person who would bury himself in his work, like Draco had buried himself in his own kind of work...

The park was small yet held a certain charm. In the rain and greyness of London, the bright green grass never failed to amaze Draco. Squirrels were running around, waiting for the occasional tourist or kind local, and in the meantime hiding in trees from children and fighting eah other. There was a small pond in the middle of the park, with no fence or protection. A duck was plunging his head into it at regular intervals, but Draco could not think of any fish surviving in so small of pond.

A sudden ray of sunlight invaded the park, and each drop of water or flower was illuminated, giving a truly beautiful sight. Sitting there, drawing on his cigarette when he remembered it, he realised that all he had lived through, all he felt he couldn't escape - he could.

If he could just leave, right there and then, for the world. He could close his eyes and Apparate anywhere he wanted, just picture a beautiful landscape, a beach, Italy, friggin' Robinson's Island if that's what it took. He could travel the world and take in the most beautiful sights, relish in them, dream in them... He could meet those thousands of people that made a civilization, learn what it meant to live for the kid walking eight miles each day for a jar of water, or visit the monk in the most retired place of the earth. Not all those who wander are lost, and in his case that is what he wanted to do, _find _himself, figure out who he was away from all those responsibilties that shaped him without his asking to.

In a sudden need for movement, he stood up, resolute. There was nothing tying him back, he could just as well - and then the small voice in his head whispered to him : Harry.

And before he could even acknowledge the thought, or let it form entirely in his mind, there was a sharp blow that made him cry out, he felt himself falling and rough hands on him, and then there was nothing.

* * *

He woke up in a black room that stinked of rot and humidity. It was not his lucky day. It was not his lucky life, really. He opted for a tentative move of the arm - that was the first thing they cut when they imprisonned him - and didn't feel any pain. However, he felt numb and looked at his arm. There was indeed what looked like a profound cut, and multiple scratches around it. Had they healed him. Looking at his fingernails, he saw remnants of skin. Had he tried to fight them off ? He didn't remember anything, just darkness.

But once again, he was wandless and had cuffs around, this time, both his wrists and his ankles. He suspected those would not be as easy to take off as the last ones.

Sighing loudly, he resolved to just sit there against the wall, waiting for Potter to come back and rescue him as he unmistakeably would, and just as eager to tell him off for it as he would for getting out of there.

He heard muffled voices coming distinctly towards him. A wave of panic surged through him - he wasn't ready just now, he'd just been completely healed from his wounds two days ago !

The door cracked and a tall figure walked in, followed by a normal one. He mumbled something that sounded like 'Lumos', and sure enough, a small greenish light errupted from his wand.

- "So, does Lumos always make green light instead of blue ? Real classy guys, I think your - _dead _- boss would love it."

He didn't know where the wit came from but he was sick of letting himself be walked all over by shits like them.

He waited for the pain to come but none did. Surprised, he looked up.

- "Draco Malfoy. You're one interesting case.", came a rough, raw voice. "So you were lodging at Harry Potter's appartment in London. How is it that you were allowed out ? Mistakes are not easily made by Harry Potter."

Draco's heartbeat accelerated as he heard Harry's name. How did they know ? Wasn't that program supposed to be secret ? What had tipped them off ?

The tall man smiled knowingly, showing perfect white teeth in the process.

- "You mean, _who _tipped us off ?"

There was someone on the inside.

- "I have to admit, you did make the job easier for us. We didn't even have to break in the appartment, you just offered yourself on a silver platter."

He flashed his brightest smile.

* * *

- Harry's POV -

Harry looked at his watch, nervous. It had been one hour. He knew he had to give some time to Draco to cool off, think things through, hell, he knew himself needed time, but he was supposed to be on witness protection.

In rational thinking, no one would want to go after Malfoy. Langley had told him that just after he'd given him Draco's wand, the smirk on his face giving place to something more serious as he explained that after having interrogated Draco - gently, he promised - he had concluded there was no special information that he was in possession of, and anyways, the Death Eaters had other things to do than chase after the last Malfoy, probably only held hostage because they didn't know what to do with him.

But if everyone thought rationally, the world would be a better place.

Harry stood up, resolute. He gave it another quarter an hour - he was patient that way - before he would go out and look for him. In his haste, he'd even forgotten his wand, that Harry kept in the kitchen drawer anyways, because he wasn't supposed to have it.

Seized by a doubt, he came into the kitchen in a few easy strides and opened said drawer. It was empty. Stupid Malfoy must have gotten it while Harry was busy tha night before, it would have passed unnoticed. Harry put his face in his hands, shaking his head.

What was going on with him ? Since Draco had come back into his life, from the moment he recognised him in the cellar, he had been making mistake after mistake and that was definitely _not _rational thinking.

Now Draco really could be anywhere, since having his wand enabled him to Apparate. Hoping for the best, Harry seized his keys on his way to the door and left the appartment, determined to find him.

But once on the street, no magical idea sprung to his mind concerning how exactly he was supposed to find that damned idiot. He suddenly thought of the charm he had put on Malfoy's wand that detected his magical print. Maybe if he could reactivate the path Draco had followed...

Muttering the revealing spell under his breath, he let out a sigh of relief as he spotted a faint, golden line going up the street on the pavement. It led to a tobacconist's. What could Draco possibly want at a tobaccanist's ? Harry frowned and entered, hearing the bell ring. Had he followed the wrong path ? He had to make sure of it before he returned to point zero.

- "Excuse me, hello", he adressed the shopkeeper. "Could you tell me if you've seen a - a blond man, very pale, and pale hair too. Possibly...shirtless."

He felt himself going red as he said it, damning himself, Draco and everything that was wrong in his life at that moment.

The shopkeeper looked at him suspiciously.

- "What you want to know that for ?", he asked gruffly.

Grumbling, Harry charmed a police badge in his pocket, and got it out.

- "Scotland Yard. Do you want to answer my question."

He didn't look convinced, but answered anyway.

- "Yeah, I saw one. Had a shirt though, " he added after reflection. "Real pale, he was. Dead eyes, too."

Yeah, that was the one.

- "What did he buy ?"

The shopkeeper pointed behind him.

- "Bought a pack of fags, that's all", he said, indifferent.

Confused, Harry thanked him, hearing mumbling about 'Scotland Yard loosin' its time running after half'nekked dudes an' where was the world' goin'...' as he exited the shop.

So Draco had walked a few blocks, and bought a pack of cigs ? He _smoked _? The treacherous part of his mind that obviously held a grudge against him couldn't help but remark that they had one thing in common wizards didn't often do, and that he was after all maybe not out of his league... He felt the urge to hit it, but it would look kind of crazy hitting his head in front of the shopkeeper to whom he'd just told he was Scotland Yard.

He reactivated the spell, thinking he must have gone somewhere to smoke his pack. Maybe - he lifted his head : a park ! And maybe - just maybe - he was still sitting on one of the benches, wondering when the hell Harry was finally going to worry about him.

However, when he entered the small park he liked to go smoke into too when it was too sunny to stay stuck in his grey appartment, he sensed something was wrong.

On the corner of his eyes, a police car was parked just outside the other entrance. He walked faster, hoping that for God's sake this had nothing to do with Draco... He reached the car, and saw a few people talking to concerned-looking policemen.

- "And this happened ?"

- "Half an hour ago, when we called you", answered a small brunette, visibly shocked.

Harry got out his badge again and showed it to the two policemen.

- "Scotland Yard. What happened here ?"

If he was shocked that a Scotland yard agent would be interested in a small crime, the man did not show it. He glanced at his notebook.

- "According to these witnesses, half an hour ago, three men in cloaks entered the park with knives and striked a man that was sitting there", he pointed, "and they cut him. It seems he shouted and fought back, but the assaillants dragged him away, menacing this woman", he pointed again, "in the process."

No, no, no...Men in cloaks. It was Draco ! Trying to hold on to a bit of hope, he asked :

- "And, hum, the man, what did he look like ?"

- "Well, he was tall and rough looking, really hurt him -"

- "No, the victim !"

He realised he had shouted but his nerves were on fire by now, the tall and rough looking man must have been Thomas Langlord, and that meant trouble if he had gone there in person - either Draco was very important or he just didn't have that many men, but he was still dangerous -

- "He was pale and blond. Very pale hair, too. Pale blond. Young."

It was enough for Harry. Without thanking the woman, he left quickly, and broke into a run to find a deserted street. He whirled on himself and Apparated in Langley's office. There seemed to be a lot of emergency cases these last few days.

Immediately knowing something was wrong, Langley stood from his armchair, alarmed.

- "Harry, what's going on ?"

- "It's Draco- Malfoy", spluttered Harry. "He's been taken. It's Langlord, I know it ! They said he was rough looking and tall, and in cloaks- Langley, it happened half an hour ago, we have to go, now !"

- "Alright, just calm down, calm down. Tell me from the beginning, everything."

Harry told him about following Malfoy's trace, the park, the policemen and the witnesses, and the minutes that were passing by as they spoke. He left out the reason why he'd given Malfoy the slip out of the house, and waited so long to go after him. It didn't escape Langley, though.

- "You'll tell me after why the fuck you let out your witness under protection of your sight for one minute, let alone an hour. How did they know, though ?"

- "He left the appartment. There was no more security. If they put a tracking spell on him it would have been- "

- "Easy peasy, yeah. At least we weren't betrayed. I don't think I could deal with having someone in the inside right now, what with the fucking mess you've already made."

And Harry exited the room and shouted :

- "Everyone !"

* * *

**AN : **So, there's a chapter just a little longer, and for the first time Draco's POV. I really enjoyed doing this part !

A lot of inspiration and I can't seem to stop writing, so expect some more before soon. Thanks again for the review Albions-Queen, I really can't say how much it pleases me to have someone ready to read when I publish :D


	7. Chapter 7

- Draco's POV -

In what seemed like the middle of the night, Draco woke up suddenly to the regular dripping of water against his cheek.

- "What the- ?"

He looked up and strained his eyes to make out the broken pipes, and swore. He couldn't move a millimeter, and he could hardly request to be moved because the cellar was leaking. He tried to go bak to sleep, but he couldn't - the water was driving him nuts. He sat up as comfortably as he could - which didn't mean much - and resolved himself to a sleepless night. Not that he wasn't used to it...

Except last night. Last night he had slept for at least six hours and that was more than he could say for the two past years. How could he have ever survived with so little sleep ? It was a wonder.

He tried to push the thoughts out of his mind but it seemed it was waging war against him, and it was useless. He couldn't stop Harry's image coming into his mind, his face, his eyes, the touch of his skin and the feel of his hair against Draco's finger... In the hellhole he was, he found himself imagining Harry which so much clarity that it was perturbing.

Out of nowhere, the words of the tall man came back into his mind - "You mean, _who _tipped us off". He had been panicked when he realised that the Death Eaters still had someone on the inside. Harry was not safe, and was still unaware that there was a mole in his midst. Was that what panicked him more than anything ? But he couldn't possibly want him... Even if they had gotten over their history and issues, the fact that everything pushed them apart, the different sides they had been on during that damn war, it would still remain that - Harry was a man.

Draco shuddered at the thought of what his father would say if he'd caught them at it. Angered, he ordered himself to forget about it. The mixed feelings of sadness at his father's death but the hatred he'd learn to built towards him did not make a good pair. It wasn't up to his father what Draco did with his life.

Not that, at the rate things were going, he would have a life. What did they want with him anyway ? Was it pure vengeance, cruelty that drove them to track him down ? Making sure the three Malfoys would be extinct ? He couldn't figure it out. Unless...Unless he had information _they_ didn't have. Information they knew he had. But no, that wasn't possible. Draco had never been a real part of the Death Eaters, he had never attended meetings with great care and had limited his involvement to almost nothing. He knew the password to his Gringotts vault but then again all there was inside was a ridiculous amount of gold he did not know what to do with, and the necklace his mother had given him that contained, magically, their best memories together. He had placed it there at the beginning of the war, to make sure it wouldn't get harmed. That was his only, obsessing thought as he retrieved the key from the ruins of what had been his home for seventeen years. If you could call it a home. He'd seen the look of disgust on Potter's face but at the time couldn't care less that he thought he was still money-driven.

All he wanted was the necklace.

A creeping, horrible thought came into his mind, like it'd been there forever. Was it the necklace ? Were they after the necklace ? It was just a chain, really, not even worthy of anything. Draco had been wearing it since the day he got it until it wasn't safe anymore, and his mother had made sure no one would want to rob it - it was made of thin silver that could pass off as metal, thin ringlets constituting it. But when he wanted, he could relive his greatest memories, and they could be counted on his ten fingers.

Was it that ? Were they after the memories ? Was there something in them, something in the background that Draco would never have paid attention to, or something hidden byy his mother ?

He had come to understand that it was his mother pulling the strings, keeping the family together. His father was too much of a coward to run things when it became difficult, and always relied on his mother. In the midst of all this mess, Draco was convinced that they had loved each other. Being ready to die, or to kill, for the other, it was that, love, wasn't it ?

So his mother must have left information in the necklace. But why ? How could she have predicted someone would ever need it, and what was so important that it had to be kept, and not forgotten ?

Suddenly, Draco heard a big clash and the door opened, sunlight pouring in. He wasn't that far into the earth than he might have thought.

- "Morning sunshine", said a raspy voice, earning chills from Draco. He consequently chose not to reply.

The voice continued, apparently unaware of Draco's unwillingness to communicate.

- "We're going to make you get some air, huh ? See a little light..." It seemed the man was smiling, Draco could feel it in the way he was talking.

Suddenly the man came into view, more ugly than Draco dared to admit. He had scars everywhere like he had fought the Muggle way, and his mouth was loopsided, like a part of his lips had just died. A spell gone terribly awry. He nevertheless took out his wand and released Draco from his cuffs, then roughly grabbed his arm to force him into a standing position.

- "Come on sunshine, wouldn't want to miss the boss now, would we ?"

Draco shuddered, the hair on his neck standing up. If they really did want something from him and not just revenge, or the love of killing, he was going to be tortured. How well _did _he bear torture ? A few months ago he wouldn't have dreamt of it, knowing in his heart he would say anything at the slightest touch. Now... He was a changed man. As much as he wished he had never ended up in a situation like this, he knew he could live through a fair number of Crucios at the most. Flashes of unpleasant images came ridding into his memory, and he pushed them away - he may have been tortured through the war, but the fact that he had did not take away his fear at the perspective of another round. Either way, he knew now that he would not give up his mother's secret. It was all he had and she had judged her memory so important she had given it to Draco, to be worn at all times. Draco supposed she must have thought it would be safe with him, and the last place they would look for. If that was the case, she was tragically wrong.

Was it what they had wanted from her ? He remembered the times they had taken only her when they were back at the manor, and Draco was hitting his head against the walls at the sound of his mother being hurt. She must never have said anything, seeing the state in which she was when she was pushed back in the cellar, whiter than death and not even able to walk. With a new pang of horror and disgust, Draco's resolution strengthened. If it hadn't been for that secret, who knows ? - maybe she would still be alive... For the moment, he chose to trust her blindly - he must remain silent at all cost. He would have all the time in the world if he survived to get mad at the reason she died, and to realise that secret was not worth it.

The ugly man led Draco to a high-ceiling room, and pushed him brusquely into the middle of it. Confused, Draco shot a short look around him. It was not what he would call the best torture room. Decorations, tables, armchairs and - golden statues ? Was this some other manor of a ancient pureblood bloodline ? He wondered which. He noticed the tall man from the day before. He hadn't been there at the manor - or at least, Draco hadn't seen him.

- "Please", he said, gesturing amicably. "Sit."

Draco stood still.

- "I won't say it twice", the man said, and with a flick of his wand he pushed the chair forward, and Draco slumped against it. "Well, well, well... You must ask yourself what you are doing here."

Draco nodded stiffly. The man had a strange accent - Irish ?

- "The truth is, it's all better to talk about business over a nice, hot tea, isn't it ?"

Oh, no. Definitely English. Again he moved his wand gracefully and a tea tray appeared. While he was serving them, he continued :

- "I hope you didn't spend to bad a night. I apologize for the accomodations, but the measures were necessary. You see, we didn't want you escaping the first night..."

- "I don't have a wand", said Draco, his first words. His voice sounded cracked.

- "I assure you, there are other means."

He didn't answer. He didn't know where the conversation was going. What did he want with him ? This was far from what Draco had been imagining.

- "Oh, yes. You. Well, you see," said the man, unperturbed, and still shocking Draco with how he seemed to read minds, "I think you are in possession of information we would like to have."

- "I don't."

- "Now, now", said the man, laughing affably. "You don't even know what we want."

- "I don't have anything."

- "Ah, but you see, I think that you do. I think it is also valuable information, and if you would like to share it we could let you walk free - of course, with a Tongue-Tying curse that would unable you to talk about this conversation."

- "How do I know you won't just kill me once you're done with me ? A spell to keep me silent is too much trouble. And I don't have any information." added Draco hastily.

- "Because you are of greater value to us alive than dead."

What did _that _mean ?

- "Who told you I was with Potter ?"

- "That's for another time, if you will," replied the man, sipping his tea. "Now. You are going to tell me everything you know about the Auror quarters of the Ministry."

* * *

The Auror quarters were boiling with energy. Harry had been given full command by Langley, who watched anxiously at what played on before his eyes. Harry had decided to deploy Aurors at each and every house of the last known Death Eaters, even if most of them were in prison. He hoped he could trace back to the right house if they worked fast enough.

Unfortunately, finding the last remaining houses of the Death Eaters was the mission they had been on for three months, and a hostage in one of them only made the situation more urgent, and did not accelerate the state of the case.

For the whole night, Harry had stayed up reading the reports of various Aurors on what little they had found, hoping he could magically put them together and find one house, if only one house...

At six am, Langley approached him cautiously and asked :

- "Harry, don't you want to go to sleep ? You might need some if- when we find the house."

Though he tried to conceal it as best as he could, Harry picked up on the 'if' he'd used. He sighed interiorly. What were their chances of finding where Draco was being kept ? Was he already dead already ? At that thought, Harry's inside fell and he felt like they weighed a ton. He couldn't.

Fuck. Was he falling for a witness in a serious case, that happened to be Draco Malfoy ? In any case, the mere thought of thinking him dead gave him nausea.

- "No. I have to find something. I'm sure there's something in there that can help us."

Langley noted the desperate, slightly hysterical voice that had come out of Harry's voice.

- "We'll find him. Alive. If they bothered to search for him again, it must be that he has information valuable to them. If they only wanted vengeance, he'd be lying dead in the park from which he disappeared."

This only mildly comforted Harry. Langley had the knack for starting to say something nice, and ending up not really knowing what to say. He hadn't always been that way. Harry hadn't met him before the end of the war, but Alice had been in training for Auror with him when the war began. He had lost his youngest son, only four years old, at the hands of Greyback, who had attacked without it being of full moon. That had changed him forever and he had become too serious, too implicated, too sad.

And, in the middle of nowhere :

- "I have something !"

Harry turned his head around so quickly a muscle in his neck pulled. Rubbing his neck, he demanded :

- "What ?! What do you have, Doug ?"

It had been Doug speaking. He had been sent to the park to pick up on the trace of the men who had abducted Draco, hoping they hadn't erased them all, if at all.

- " Sure enough, there was something, man," he bracingly told Harry, but with a full smile on his face. "I managed to pick up the trace of two men, but I think there was a third underneath, very good at hiding it, though. This would have been the leader. The other two men left magic all over the place, they weren't very careful. This may be because they weren't excepting their trace to lead to anything important."

He made a pause. Harry pushed him :

- "Well, did it ?"

- "In that case", continued Doug, "they were mistaken." He smiled triumphantly. "It led back to an Apparating spot."

- "How do you know ?"

- "Haven't I ever told you how much I love History of Magic ?" He must have had another teacher than . "In London during the Second World War, some wizards decided to stay to help the war effort. They were determined they should help England resist. Only, they knew London could very well be bombarded so they set up three Apparating spots in the city, which are a mix between Portals and Apparition. They could still Apparate everywhere in the city but these Apparating spots were very secure, led all the ones who Apparated to the same place, anywhere, even if it was protected, and, most importantly, the magic put in was strong enough that it enabled wizards to Apparate without wands. Harry, it also enabled Muggles to Apparate with wizards !"

Harry couldn't make sense of it all. During the Second World War ? But how would Langlord know about this ? Why would he use it ?

- "Harry, we have to proceed by elimination. The three are wizards, and all have wands, since they left a magical trace. To go back to their quarters, they had to use the Apparating spot because it lead _anywhere, even the protected places_ ! Their quarters must be very protected, very far, and very large, or he could Apparate outside it and enter it by foot, like we did at the Malfoy's house - until the fire started. I think if we use some pretty powerful magic, we can Apparate at the same spot they did ! It's not like this is a know fact, Apparating spots in London, so I'm ready to bet it's the first time it's been used in a long time, or they've been using it regularly and we can trace back to every place they went !"

He was so excited he didn't understand what was wrong in the situation.

- "Doug. How hard was it to trace back to the spot ?"

Doug looked confusing for an instant, before answering :

- "Harry, don't think it was that easy. They covered their tracks very well. But", he continued, lowering his voice so that the other Aurors wouldn't hear, "I come from America. We have different methods than here. And - forgive me for that, but I had to use a few forbidden spells to get there..."

Horrified, Harry whispered fiercely back :

- "What ! Did they hurt -"

- "No, no ! I didn't hurt anyone. They're only forbidden because they're ancient magic, and I affected the foundations of the city and, _slightly, _the cycle of the hours..."

- "That's very powerful magic !"

- "It will be erased in one week at the most ! Do you want to find the men that are doing much more harm to the city ?"

Harry didn't need to consider it - in Doug's place, he probably would've used the same spells - had he know them.

- "Allright everyone ! We have a lead. We're Apparating in London - I want you - Campbell, Hoffman, Mitchell, Fitzgerald, McCarthy. We're going to get those sons of bitches !"

A general scrapping of the chairs on the floors ensued, and excited voices as, for the first time in weeks, they had a lead.

To say it had taken Draco to get them there...

* * *

- "I don't know anything about them. I wasn't in them."

Draco lied outright to his face.

- "I am not a very patient man. I wish I did not have to hurt you, but you know if you refuse to cooperate, I will. Draco, what is so important that you have to hide it ? You were on our side once, do you remember ? The Aurors killed your family. Your bloodline. They destroyed everything the Dark Lord had fought to ensure."

At this, Draco smirked nastily. He didn't care if he died, or that he was going to get killed for these words, anymore. Only a stab of - what regret ? - pierced through him as he pronounced his fatal sentence - in a flash, Harry came before his eyes, and he felt how it would have been to have a normal life with him - _with him ?_ He let himself feel it for the first time since their kiss - he not only wanted Harry, he wanted to _be_ with him.

And he knew being weak and cowardly was not the kind of behavior Harry liked - hell, it wasn't the kind of behavior _Draco _liked anymore -

And in an instant, Draco spat at the flood between him and the man.

- "Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you", he said calmly, with an enormous smile on his face.

In a shout of rage, the man stood up, taller than nature, and the wand began to lash out.

* * *

**AN : **Sorry for this very late chapter, just began working again and it's baad ;)

I hope you enjoy this chapter, not too much action but some info for the plot to continue.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note **: Okay so sorry for the enormous delay, a little work, a little doing other stuff; a lot forgetting about this story but I'm set on finishing it now ! I'm thinking one or two more chapters after this one, it did really shape itself and for a first story, I loved to actually get feedback !

Harry's POV

They Apparated right in the center of London, in one of those spots where they were certain no one would see them. A unit of more than five, it was a big mission they were getting into. Somehow, in the middle of the turmoil and excitement of the mission, Harry couldn't help but feel distant from his fellow Aurors.

He was going to have some action... But the last time he had, many people had died. The last time he had had to save someone, the last time he had had to fight, people around him had died. He may be on a mission to uncover the organization they had been searching for for weeks, but to him this felt more like a rescue mission.

And the goal : Draco. Leashed to his mind, never disappearing, there he was. Draco Malfoy, center of the attention once again, retained prisoner in a house they were looking for. Draco Malfoy, again another person he had to save, and yet, _yet_, this felt like more, in a sense, it felt worse. Because if he had cared about all those people he was fighting for during the war, and this ideal that was equality between wizards and Muggles, and freedom, it seemed to vanish and looked ridicule compared to what was going on right now : Draco was not safe, and it was up to him, Harry, to make sure he was.

The realization hit Harry in full blow at that moment : he would not be able to face it if something were to happen to Draco.

He sighed loudly, attracting interrogating looks from the men and women around him that were quickly, but inconspicuously, walking to the Apparating spot Doug had talked about. What mess had he gotten himself into ? He was nowhere nearer an answer than when Draco had left him in the apartment, panting and looking at him running out. He still couldn't figure out why Draco never left his thoughts, why he couldn't get that kiss out of his head, and more importantly, why the constant worry since he had disappeared never left him a moment alone.

They finally made it to the spot. Somehow Harry felt like the minutes were hours, and he had spent a whole week walking the three miles to the spot. A slight nausea had made its way to his stomach, and he felt light-headed. He knew what was going on : Draco was his sole thought. What if...What if he were already dead ? What if he found him in a state frightening to look at ? He wouldn't put that past his abducters - there were tortures he'd seen that would make one wish he had never been born. Harry pushed the thought out of his mind. He would never be able to concentrate if he started picturing all that could have gone wrong.

In a matter of minutes, the group was turning on itself, and, for a fleeting moment, Harry felt the weirdest sensation of all - it was like Apparating, but in a dream. Every sensation was heightened and yet he felt as though he weren't there, and couldn't feel the nausea normally resulting in Apparition. The faces of his fellow Aurors kept zooming in and out of focus, even if he was still holding two hands.

And then they came in focus of the house.

The first thing Harry noticed was the magnetic field enveloping the house. Some special force Aurors managed to get rid of that - not so easily - but a feeling of uneasiness started to creep up Harry's spine as he realised there was no other protection to the house than this. As if voicing his worries, another Auror said :

- " They must be pretty confident that the Apparating spot can't be found."

It didn't really help calm Harry down. They approached the house, invisible and under cover. Many of the rooms were lit up. They may have to deploy and call reinforcements.

For now, Harry made signs to get nearer. He counted the lit windows - one, two, three...ten ! That would have been at least five rooms, and so at least ten Death Eaters - if they could call them that. After all, who was to tell ? Maybe there was a new dark force at work here - but what could Draco possibly know ? In the end it always went back to Draco...

* * *

Draco's POV

He was screaming.

He was pretty sure he could hear himself, and in any case the sound coming from his deepest insides was scorching his throat. It was him screaming.

However, he also felt pretty numb. Was it really that painful ? He couldn't remember when, if ever, he hadn't felt like he was being opened up and his entrails moved.

He was pretty sure he had missing limbs. He was also pretty sure the lights were dancing in front of him, and blue and green bubbles were flying around, _smiling at him_. So all in all, he couldn't be very definite about anything.

From somewhere very far off, he thought he could hear a man, and whenever he heard that voice, more pain came and he realised it wasn't the worst he'd felt just before. He tried to shield away from it, but there was still no escaping.

This time, though, he felt like he was slipping away. The only coherent thought he could muster, while wondering why they were letting him die now, was...that - was that...Harry...

And suddenly he heard a distant boom. Was that how Death was like. Not very discreet and graceful, he thought, frowning. Maybe ask her to do a little less noise ? His head was exploding...

But the numbing pain stopped for a while and he wondered whether he was taking tea again, like on that beautiful day he had nothing else to do.

He counted up to ten. Normally it took ten long seconds for him to finish his tea in one gulp, and then he'd be right back at it. He had to admit, he had endurance...

Only after he counted to ten, he still couldn't feel anything.

Oh.

Was he dead already ? He felt a tingle of regret enveloping his heart, like it was literally being broken...Maybe it was for the best.

But surely now he was dead he could open his eyes, because in death he had no more injuries ? It took him forever to do that small task, and by then he was noticing other strange noises. Like...blurred forms shouting incantations. Green and red flying everywhere. These weren't bubbles... Now he was confused. He opened his eyes a little more, pissed off at how painful it was if he was supposed to be dead.

A blurred form was coming nearer, eyebrows stuck together like they would never unravel and an obviously horrified expression on his face.

- "Harry, no...", came an even more distant voice.

- "Draco !"

And there it was. Paradise. Though in a strange form, they had given him what he wanted. To hear Harry's voice for one last time...

* * *

Harry's POV

-"Draco ? Draco !"

He heard himself shout full scale. Alice was standing a little while away, looking terrified and disgusted.

- "Harry, you shouldn't be there..."

- "What the fuck did they do to him !" He could barely recognise him. He had so deep cuts that it was a wonder he had been holding out for so long.

- "Let the - Let the..."

For once, Alice had no words. Harry turned his head slightly and frowned. She was puking, her face green. She was normally so composed... But the bigger problem was not there, it lay with Draco. In his wildest nightmares, he had never imagined it could be that bad...

The nausea he had been feeling overwhelmed him, or maybe it was touching Draco, what was that climbing up on him ? - and he felt numbly he was being dragged away, screaming.

- "Harry ?", came a scorched, minuscule voice.

And, before fainting, Harry had the confirmation that, despite his actual form, Draco...Draco was not dead.

* * *

Draco's POV

He lost track of time, but he believed they had been in the hospital for one whole month. He still winced each time someone touched his injuries, but that was because they were no mere cuts - he had used a special kind of magic.

It would take time to heal.

He had also learnt, when being interrogated by the Aurors not one week after being rescued, that _he _had gotten away. The other had been caught, but _him_... That kept him up at night for two weeks.

And just now, he was practically certain some Auror was on his way back to interrogation mode. Indeed, he could hear muffled voices emanating from just outside his door. He willed himself to stand up - he didn't want to look like a weak handicapped man the rest of his life. Still stumbling at every step, he managed to make it to the door. Hmm...They were still not coming in. He strained his ears, trying to recognise the voices. Was it Harry ? A feeling of hope flared up inside him. He rejected it dejectedly. He hadn't even been to visit him once... And it wasn't like he couldn't find his way to freaking St Mungo's...

Finally he made out the voices :

- "I don't think he's strong enough yet. We can't risk it..."

- "Well, we don't really have much of a choice, do we ? We have to get the investigation going. We're not making any break through -"

- "Yeah, and what do you think going back to interrogate him would help do ? Reliving his memories ? - that's to horrible. Even for a Malfoy..."

- "There's no other way. With Alice gone and Harry still unresponsive lying in a bed here, we _have _to find him. That's worth a shot !", came the pleading voice

Draco stopped breathing, in full shock. He'd tried to relive those last moments when he was being saved, with Harry rushing at his side. He'd tried to find a rational explanation to why he hadn't seen him around. Well...He _was _around.

He was just as injured as him...

The door opened suddenly, and Draco and fell off balance.

- "What do you think you're doing ?" It was that Douglas guy, always so angry and on edge.

Draco was too shocked to answer, even consider this was a question.

- "Where's Harr- Potter...Where's Harry Potter ?"

Douglas seemed confused by the question, and looked like he couldn't care less what Draco wanted to know. That is, until Draco decided he didn't need his help and started marching out of the room.

- "Hey, where are you-"

- "What the fuck happened to Potter ?", Draco demanded, not turning to see if Douglas and the other Auror were following.

- "Nobody told you ?" He sounded genuinely surprised. "He was the first one to touch you. His heart stopped and he started convulsing. They barely saved him", at this, his voice wavered. "You're lucky to be alive. The Healers say he absorbed some of your pain plus a spell that must have been set on you to kill anyone trying to rescue you. He's even more lucky to be alive..."

- "Why'd'you say he was unresponsive ?"

- "You were listening to?- Okay, nevermind...He hasn't said a word since he started recovery. The Healers say it has nothing to do with the spell, but something must have shocked him. We had a pretty bad case back at the office... The one who tipped them off about you...It was one of our-", at this, he stopped talking, and it sounded like he was crying.

That Alice. Her name sounded familiar. Was she the one whose parents and sibblings his father executed at the Dark Lord's command ? No wonder she would have a grudge.

- "Yeah, that Alice ? I don't blame her..."

Douglas stopped in mid track. He grabbed his arm.

- "Hey-"

- "What do you mean ? Why ?"

Confused, Draco took his arm back and started walking again.

- "Where's Potter's room ? My father killed her whole family, I think. It must have been just before the beginning of the war. I'm the only Malfoy left, aren't I ? I don't blame her..."

- "Why the fuck didn't you say this before ?"

- "You never asked", he mumbled under his breath, as he heard Douglas running the opposite way.

And there he was. Looking through the window, he could see Harry's features perfectly well. He didn't even think about it when he pushed the door open.

And he just stood there.

From a distance, Harry looked peaceful. That is to say, he wasn't moving. It felt like he was barely breathing. Draco was hit by the eerie atmosphere that seemed to descend upon him. Something was seriously wrong with him. Behind him, he heard the door closing. And Harry didn't even turn his head. A feeling of terrible guilt crept over Draco. It was him that had done this to Harry. Had he been transformed into one of those vegetables, not feeling, not thinking, not even seeing ? Was the spell put on Draco really that powerful, really that horrifying that it would put a man in this state ?

As Doug had said, would he ever talk again ?

He couldn't understand what had happened. He had relived the moment of his rescue hundreds of times in his head, turned it around, seen it from every possible angle, and still could not understand why Harry had run towards him, why he had touched him, why the word that had come out of his mouth last was 'Draco'... If anything, he should have called him Malfoy.

And here he was, in a hospital bed for one month and looking like he'd just seen the devil. The feeling of being paralysed Draco felt only intensified. How could he move towards him ? How could he sit by his bed, and try to talk to him, and look at him, knowing he was responsible for this ? How could he ever have imagined life with Harry Potter when he saw the real Harry, shallow, white, standing stiff in that bed that he supposed he hadn't left for weeks ? Where was the Harry he knew, the Harry he had kissed, the Harry that, no matter how messy and fucked up it was, was the Harry whose lips he could still feel on his ?

There was no getting his thoughts around it. The final blow Harry Potter had suffered had been, most surprisingly, Draco Malfoy's. His lips curled humorlessly at the irony. The One Who Lived, defeated by the little blond ferret.

And without thinking about it, his feet moved, stumbling, and approached Harry's bed. He couldn't stand being in the same room as him and not being near him. Especially after what he had just witnessed... He wanted to hold his hand, if that was the only thing he would ever get to do...

When had he gotten so sentimental ?

But nevertheless, Draco made it to the bed. He didn't dare touch his had, just lying there like the rest of him. Instead, he opted for the step before.

- "H-Harry ?"

His voice came out scorched and cracked and sounded a few centuries old, but that was nothing compared to the reaction he got in response.

Harry's neck turned around so violently that Draco heard it crack, and then he met his eyes. Round, confused, and completely shocked.

- "Harry ? You can hear me ?"

Repetition of 'Oh my god's turned around in Draco's head, nearly shocked to muteness.

He moved around frantically.

- " They said- they said - you were unresponsive, I mean...I thought you were brain-dead, or - or - or something like that-"

Nothing in his sentence made sense, but he didn't care. Did Harry just fucking respond to his voice ?

And then came the voice he hadn't dared to wish for, so unreal his wish would have been.

- "You're alive."

Fuck. Harry thought he was dead ? How come none of these fucking incompetent Aurors hadn't told him ? What the fuck was wrong with them ? But all the murderous thought he was entertaining disappeared when Harry suddenly grabbed his arm. He made to get up from his bed.

- "No no no, Harry, stay in, you're injured..."

He didn't even want to tell the Healers about this, all he could think about was Harry his eyes, looking at him, alive...

- "Fuck it, Draco, I've been sleeping for a month-"

And then they didn't exist anymore. It wasn't Harry Potter, Auror, the Chosen One and Draco, ex-Death Eater, coward, but two men coming in full embrace, and never letting go... Their movements were uncoordinated and Draco stumbled on his own foot but then their lips met. It was like the piece of a puzzle finally finding its twin. Draco's lips moved around Harry's like they had been meant to do that, been there for his whole life, and when Harry opened his mouth under Draco's and their tongues touched Draco had another rush of euphoria, there was no other word for it...

Draco's hands went in Harry's hair, grabbing him, bringing him closer, tracing his jawline and grasping his shirt, pulling him closer and closer and never wanting to stop.

And when they broke apart, they didn't let go of each other.

Their foreheads remained against each other, and Draco could hear Harry's uncertain and irregular breathing. He was fairly certain himself was also gasping for air. Catching Harry's lips slightly again, he murmured.

- "Well...That was..."

- "Unexpected."

- "I thought you didn't want me..."

- "And I thought you were dead." whispered Harry roughly, like it had taken him willpower to form the words. At the mention of death, he had inconsciously tightened his grip on Draco. "Of course I fucking want you. You're the one that run out on me, weren't you ? You're the one that managed to fucking get caught by madmen to escape me". This time, sarcasm was leaking from Harry's words, but he still stumbled on them.

An airless laugh came out of Draco.

- "You know, you kiss even better for real than in my dreams-"

- "You dream about me ?" asked Harry mockingly

- "Fuck you." replied Draco, biting Harry's lower lip gently. He earned a gasp and a smile formed on his lips. "I've had some time to dream about you, you arsehole." At this, Harry stiffened, tightening his grip on Draco again. It looked like his hands would never change position.

- "I'm glad you're alive."

He didn't seem to be able to say much more, and yet, through these simple words, Draco understood the immense relief Harry was feeling. He had talked, for fuck's sake ! He had talked for Draco...


End file.
